


Power

by Harpalyke (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Breeding, Creampie, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Impregnation, Involuntary Arousal, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Murder, Period Typical Attitudes, Systematic Rape, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21713071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Harpalyke
Summary: The Zalewski family has been keeping a very dangerous secret. The whole family will pay the price for their defiance, but the Nazis doling it out have a different plan for their young daughter.
Relationships: Nazi Officers/Village Girl
Comments: 4
Kudos: 146





	Power

The Zalewski family was eating supper when the low sound of an engine came from across the field and through the open window. 

The five of them were seated around the table—Mother, Father, Aunt Lidia, Marek, and Edyta—finishing their bowls of soup and discussing Marek’s plans to attend university. Mama was strongly against it, but Marek insisted it was the safest spot. “They’ll send me to fight,” he told her with impatience. “We’ve been over this before.”

“I just don’t want to bring attention to…” Mother didn’t have to speak out loud the rest. The Zalewski family had to be flying as far under the German radar as possible. If the Nazis came knocking, asking to search… 

Father was obviously thinking the same thing. “I’ll bring him the bowl now.” He left the table, took two steps to the counter, and fixed an extra bowl of soup. 

Edyta glared at Marek over her empty bowl. How lucky he was to go off to school when her own had shut down last year, right in the middle of her second year of high school. He’d leave the village and make many friends in the city while she was stuck in the house all day. 

“If you join the army voluntarily,” Mother said to Marek, “you won’t have to fight. You could be a medic—” 

“Mama, enough,” Marek sighed. “You know I’m not well-suited to that type of labor.”

“Nor any labor at all,” Father grumbled, returning to his seat and lifting up his fork. The others ignored the remark, eating in silence. 

It was Edyta who heard the engine first, a low, machine-hum that would’ve been quite soothing anywhere not under German occupation. “Do you hear that?” she asked quietly.

They all froze and listened, alarmed by her uncharacteristic tone. The engine grew louder, the sound of wheels against dirt as it turned off the main road and onto the one running through the village. 

“Is it them?” Edyta knew the answer before the question left her mouth. Only the Kotula family owned a car in the village, and Bogdan Kotula had arrived home hours ago. They sat still, holding their breaths as the car approached.  _ Please let it pass, please let it pass…  _ Perhaps they were on their way somewhere else, except not many passed through this village, as it wasn’t directly on the way to either of the two closest cities. 

The noise did not pass like they’d all been praying. It stopped seemingly right in front of their house. Edyta shifted her wide eyes to Mother, who had gone very pale. 

“Edyta, go upstairs,” Father said quietly.

Edyta knew she should obey, but her rear was stuck to the chair, her mind jammed up. Outside, a car door swung open, followed by boots hitting the dirt—multiple pairs of boots. 

“Edyta,” Father growled.  _ “Now.” _

It sounded threatening, but by his face, she could see he was terrified. This moved her into action and she crept upstairs. With shaking hands, Aunt Lidia snatched up their plates and flew into the kitchen just as a loud banging from the front door caused them all to flinch, even though they’d been expecting it. 

Edyta should’ve gone into her room, but a morbid curiosity took over and held her at the top of the stairs, flat against the wall just out of view. She’d taken this stance many times in the past to listen to her parents’ hushed conversations after they’d sent her away. That was how she’d found out about Jan. 

After only a blink, the boots were inside the house. From where she stood, Edyta could see just an arm of a man standing next to the stairs. It was covered in grey fabric except for a red band around the upper arm. In the center was that sharp-edged symbol adorned on flags and sprayed onto the few Jewish shop windows that hadn’t been smashed to pieces. 

Edyta’s heart was pounding in her ears. Her parents told her they were safe as long as they didn’t break the law. The very big problem was, the Zalewski family  _ was _ breaking the law by hiding their neighbor, who used to set up a fruit and vegetable stand in the city, in the basement of their house. 

“How can I help you, gentlemen?” Father was asking, too loudly. 

“Are you Mr. Robert Zalewski?” one of them asked, the words coming out too tight and harsh. 

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“We have reason to believe there is a Jew in this residence.” 

The world went white, a ringing blaring in Edyta’s ears as all of the breath left her lungs. How in the  _ hell _ did they know? They’d all been so careful…

“...welcome to take a look around,” Father was babbling now. “We’re not associated...we’re Catholic, you see.” Edyta imagined him making a sweeping gesture to the crosses and portrait of Virgin Mary on the wall separating the kitchen and sitting room. 

“Of course.” Only one Nazi was speaking, likely the only one who knew Polish. “Who is this?” 

Near the portrait were two photographs, one of Marek, the other of Edyta. 

“My daughter, sir.” 

“Where is she?” 

“Away at girl scout camp, sir,” Mother jumped in, also too high-pitched and eager. “She attends every July and August.” Except this year and the previous, because the camp had stopped operating without explanation. 

Whether the Nazis bought it was not clear. They moved into the kitchen, where the ominous basement door stood next to the stove. Would they bother to check the basement? Of course they would check the basement. The Zalewski family looked guilty even without the tip-off. 

As expected, but no less horror-inducing, boots were stomping down the basement stairs, rattling the walls of the house, including the one Edyta was leaning against.  _ Oh, dear God, please don’t let them find him…  _

Hopefully Jan heard the voices and footsteps and anticipated them coming. Hopefully he remembered the drills he and Father went over to hide in the old fridge among the clutter. Hopefully he’d eaten the soup and remembered to take the bowl with him. That was quite a lot of hope Edyta really didn’t have. 

After a few minutes of excruciating silence, harried voices in German floated through the house, accompanied by scuffling on the kitchen tiles. 

“What is your name?” The Nazi who did all the speaking demanded. Edyta frowned; they already knew their names. Unless… 

“Wait, we’ve seen him before,” another pointed out in broken Polish. “That’s the Jew with the grocery stand. His ugly mug is still in a newspaper advertisement.” 

“Oh, right, that is him, Engel. Take him out of here and dispose of him. We’re not wasting space transporting an undesirable.”

“No, please…” Jan’s raspy voice choked out, which of course went ignored. Someone traipsed him out, slamming the door behind them. For one awful moment, a savage burst of relief leapt in Edyta’s chest. The secret causing them so much stress all these months had finally been taken away. That ended swiftly by the Nazi’s next words: 

“As for you three, your fate is Treblinka, where you’ll see just what a huge mistake you’ve made harboring that creature.” 

As if on cue, a gunshot rang out through the still night air, causing Edyta to jerk in fright. “Oh,  _ God," _ Mother wailed, a sound of pure dejection, as Aunt Lidia began to cry. 

Father was a bit more hopeful, perhaps absurdly so. “Sir, may I please fetch some of our—” His question ended in a grunt of pain as one of the Nazis struck him somehow, sending him to the floor. 

“Get up,” another Nazi commanded. 

“You leave without belongings,” the first one told them as they were marched through the sitting room. “That is the consequence of taking in a Jew. Stupid, Slavic morons. Are you satisfied with yourselves now?” Not expecting an answer, he addressed the one who’d just re-entered the house. “Engel, go upstairs—I’ve a feeling that daughter is not at camp. Toller, go with him. Schieferstein, once we get these cretins in the truck, roll down the window. It’s hotter than a horse’s arse in here.” 

Edyta could only catch a glimpse of her parents as they were prodded out of the house. Her heart was squeezing in her chest, but she could not think of that now, with the two pairs of boots approaching the stairs. 

Bearing as little weight on her feet as possible, she snuck back into her room, which was thankfully spotless and didn’t really appear lived-in, since Saturday was cleaning day. It could fool them into believing the camp story. Of course, that was if they didn’t catch her in it. 

The only place to hide was in the closet. As the loud thudding of footsteps up the stairs filled her ears, she closed the closet door and crouched atop her shoes, ignoring their digging into her rear. It was stifling hot, her breathing too loud even through her sweaty palm clamped over her mouth. 

They entered her parents’ and Marek’s rooms before reaching hers, muttering to each other along the way. In the previous rooms, they looked around for all of two seconds, but two seconds had long passed already and they still hadn’t left this one. 

_ Our Father, who art in heaven, _ Edyta recited in her head, even though she’d heard once that the Nazis blatantly disregarded God’s will. At least the prayer kept her mind off the panic threatening to burst from her every pore, intensifying as the footsteps came closer. 

_ Amen, _ she finished, sinking her head into her hands in the same moment the closet door swung open. She peeked through her fingers at the polished black boots, somehow still immaculate after walking through the dirt. 

“Get out,” said the Nazi.

Edyta was not as terrified as she should have been. She’d heard of Treblinka, that those who go there do not come back, but at least she’d be with her family. Thus, she rose, ready to be taken away. 

Instead, the blonde, stern-faced man turned to the other, also blonde but scrawnier and meaner-looking. “Tell the commander to go on and come back for us.” 

The other nodded and left the room. Now the terror was seeping in. This one obviously had a separate plan for her. She’d heard that some children with blonde hair and blue eyes were sent to Germany—that was what happened to the Blyszczkiewicz kids in the next village over. Their parents, too, had been caught with a Jew and sent to Treblinka. 

Except Edyta was not blonde—well, her hair was sort of dark blonde in the sun, which had long set by now. And her eyes were not blue but a deep hazel, framed by thick, dark lashes. She glanced up at the Nazi, who was simply watching her. What would he do with her? 

The other one came back into the room and announced something in German. “Mm,” said the one in front of Edyta, eyes still on her. “Look at this little mouse we’ve got here. Isn’t she cute?” 

She tried not to cringe. The boys in the village always taunted her, calling her “mouse” because of her big, round eyes and pointed nose. The prettiest girls were never teased; Edyta was not quite ranked that high. Perhaps “cute” would afford her some mercy. 

“What do you think, Engel?” he asked the slighter one. “Will she be a good fit?”

Engel’s assessment was much colder, only lasting a second. “She’ll do, as long as she isn’t too young. How old are you, girl?” 

“Sixteen.” Edyta couldn’t raise her voice higher than a whisper. 

“Ah, the perfect age.” 

The taller one was still watching her. Toller, she remembered him being called. “Please, Herr Toller, please let me go with my family,” she pleaded softly, raising her eyes to his clear blue ones. 

He scoffed and shook his head. “You would rather we take you to Treblinka? Girl, think before you speak. We offer you a better alternative. You are much more useful to us, worthy of breeding and producing a superior German child.” 

Edyta’s stomach folded in on itself, forming a heavy ball that sank into her abdomen.  _ Breeding? _ Her horror must’ve shown on her face, for Toller reached out and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “Do not fret, dear girl. This does not have to be unpleasant for any of us.” 

A clear argument—she was a virgin, inexperienced, waiting for someone special—formed instantly in Edyta’s head. However, when she opened her mouth, she burst straight into tears. 

“Here we go again,” Engel grumbled. 

A firm hand flattened itself on her back. “There, there. Relax. What’s your name?” 

“Edyta,” she sniffled, trying to pull herself together. She almost succeeded, and then Toller tilted up her chin and forced her to look at him. Contrary to his kind voice and touch, his eyes were as hard and cold as the iron eagle on his hat, the symbol of hate and murder and  _ breeding. _ Tears leaked out of her eyes, one catching the cuff of his sleeve. 

“Come here.” The hand on her back pushed her forward, guiding her to the bed. Behind them, Engel closed the door as if there was anyone left in the house to walk in on them. 

“That’s it, now stand here and take off your dress.” 

Edyta simply stared, dumbfounded. This was a goddamn joke; it had to be. 

“Now, Edyta, you need to obey my command,” he said, letting slip a touch of impatience. “I don’t tolerate disobedient little girls. Ah, but how would you know that? We are strangers, yes? Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Felix Toller and that there is Hans Engel.” 

Engel, like her, was simply staring, but unlike her, he looked bored rather than terrified. 

“So if you’d like us to show you mercy, dear girl,” Toller continued. “You will take off your dress. Now.”

Is this  _ really _ better than Treblinka, she wondered as her shaking hands fumbled with her buttons. Perhaps so, since Treblinka was apparently synonymous with doom. So was disobedience, since both of them had guns. 

Blushing furiously, she turned away as she pulled off her dress and lay it neatly at the foot of her bed. Toller crept up from behind and unclasped her bra, sliding it off her arms. His hands were cool against her skin, sending a not-unpleasant tingle down her spine.  _ Oh, God, this is not good… _

“Lie down.” 

No, she would not do it. It was wrong, and shameful, and sick. Edyta was for her husband, not these Germans who took over her land. She curled in on herself and shook her head. 

Losing patience, Engel pulled out a piece of sleek, black metal, pointing it at her heart. The gunshot after Jan had been marched out echoed in her ears. She was not ready to die. Turning to face Toller, she begged, “Please, sir, please don’t make me do this!”

“Lie down,” he repeated, nudging her shoulder rather roughly. 

Edyta had no better choice than to lie flat on her back, long legs dangling over the edge of the bed. Toller wasted no time pulling off her knickers and cupped her breasts, not delicately, but not brutally, either. Methodically, like he wasn’t about to ruin her life even more. 

“Now she looks nice,” Engel remarked, a leer crossing his face. Edyta was pleased to see he’d put the gun away, but his hand rested casually upon the leather holster. 

“Oh, yes.” Toller nodded, running his hands slowly down her torso, awakening her skin. “But I’m afraid she’s not ready yet.”

He was touching her soft pink spot now, bringing more tears to her eyes. But that not-unpleasant tingle was back, traveling down to her toes while he gently rubbed her. “Sweet girl,” he coaxed, smearing the fluid leaking out of her all over her lower lips. 

Meanwhile, Engel moved to the opposite side of the bed, leaning over to knead her small breasts. His hands were rougher, greedier. A finger sank into her, causing her to scrunch her face in pain. “No, please—!” 

“Hush,” Toller said softly, moving it in and out. Just as the pain subsided, he withdrew, unbuckled his trousers, and replaced his finger with something larger, all in a blink. 

“No, oh God, please!” Edyta cried, seizing up and trying to squirm away. 

“Shut up,” Engel snapped, covering her mouth. 

Edyta looked to Toller with tearful, begging eyes, but he simply clutched her thighs and pushed into her. Her cry was muffled by Engel’s hand, already slick with her tears. 

“Shh, girl, just relax,” Toller advised, releasing her legs and gripping her narrow waist, bearing on her hips until he was all the way in. 

She tried but there was just so much pain and pressure and...and then...it wasn’t quite so bad anymore. In fact, with their grips around her waist and breasts, and Toller thrusting deep into her, hitting a sweet spot within, it started to feel  _ good. _

Edyta felt herself relaxing, her arms falling onto the bed at her sides. “She likes it,” she heard Engel sneer, and he was right, she  _ did _ like it.  _ No, no… _

“Of course she does,” Toller answered, increasing the pace. “She takes it like such a good girl. I’m going to fill you up, girl, do you know that?”

“Mm,” Edyta answered, unconcerned with his words, only his pumps in and out. Her muscles were tightening, bringing more pressure, but this type was very much wanted, building until she thought she would burst. With a small squeak, she had a short convulsion as her arousal gushed out of her, soaking their legs. 

Digging his fingertips into her hips, he let out a grunt and emptied himself inside her. Hot fluid filled her up, mixing with her own and spraying out as he withdrew, forming a puddle on her quilt. 

“Goddamn, is she tight.” Toller was out of breath, pale face reddened by exertion. He fixed himself up as he walked out of view, switching places with Engel. 

Edyta was still high in the clouds when Engel mounted her, falling hard back to Earth when he rammed into her, starting the pain back up. Rather than gripping her hips, he grabbed her breasts and nearly bounced her on his cock. He was not gentle and she didn’t enjoy it, but Toller caressed her cheek and neck, wiping her tears. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled over and over, toying with her mouth. “That’s a good girl…” 

Engel finished without finesse, dumping his seed into her and moving away. “Now after both of us, as young and vibrant as you are, you will surely bear one of the master race,” Toller told her, as if this was supposed to make her feel better about the whole mess. Now that the orgasm was gone completely, Edyta dissolved into sobs, pressing her splattered, aching thighs together. 

That was how they left her, seated on the edge of the bed, used and crying into her hands. They lingered in the front yard, laughing and chatting until the wheels approached and carried them away, leaving Edyta alone in the house. 

Eventually, she mustered the strength to wash up and slip on a nightdress, vowing to burn the dress she’d been wearing in the wood stove at first opportunity. She really should’ve gone to sleep, but instead she crept to the window in Marek’s room and peered outside. Jan’s body lay prone on the grass, turning her stomach. That could have been her so easily—to think she was the lucky one. 

A trembling hand pressed against her full womb, ringing silence in her ears. This was the cost of her not mysteriously vanishing like many others in her village, giving the Nazis a child to add to the next “superior” generation. Not ideal in the slightest, but if there was one thing Edyta had learned from this awful, goddamn war, it was that life under occupation was far from ideal. 


End file.
